


The Day It Started

by HMS AUs (HMSquared)



Series: The Hounds of Vegas Universe [14]
Category: Original Work, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Alternate Universe - Vegas, American Sign Language, Dissociation, Gallows Humor, Hostage Situations, Lies, Original Universe, Panic, Prequel, Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-19 05:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22339486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HMSquared/pseuds/HMS%20AUs
Summary: In which Seth unknowingly sets off events that will affect the rest of his life.
Series: The Hounds of Vegas Universe [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1401376
Kudos: 3





	1. An Tús

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not quite happy with how this chapter turned out, please let me know if I should make it less wordy.

The day it started, Seth was in a wonderful mood. Work was not stressful (dare he say fun?), and he hadn’t thought about Roman or Dean in months. Triple H was planning revenge against Sting, something he would assist with once the parts fell into place. Everything was going well.

The squad car pulled up to the precinct, and everyone got out. Seth had just spent the past two hours dealing with a bomb. One of the tech guys had managed to defuse it, the idiot responsible was in custody, and no one had gotten hurt. All in all, a good mission.

Running a hand through his hair, he stepped through the doors. People were at their desks working, Roman one of them. Not paying him any mind, Seth walked forward and nearly slammed into someone.

Finn. That was his name. He had transferred from Orlando one month ago, but was originally from Ireland. Seth hadn’t spoken to him much; he was young and kept to himself. Triple H hadn’t said anything yet, so for now the Architect left the Irishman alone.

Now he was standing in the middle of the lobby, staring at nothing. Centering himself, Seth exhaled in light annoyance. Then it turned to a sigh. He didn’t know Finn’s history; maybe he could become an Authority asset.

“Bálor?” He considered tapping the new guy on the shoulder. “Everything alright?” For a few seconds, Finn didn’t respond. Seth wondered if he hadn’t heard him. But before he could repeat himself, the Irishman suddenly spun around. Drawing his gun, he wrapped one arm around the Architect’s neck and pressed the barrel to his temple.

Everyone shot from their seats, shouting in surprise. Adrenaline and shock pumped through Seth’s veins, numbness overtaking him. He began to hyperventilate, the room and the people fading away. Gripping him tight, Finn pulled, dragging the Architect away.

Thirty minutes later, the squad room had turned into a command post. Roman hadn’t been asked to help, probably due to history with Seth, but he wandered in anyway. A man in his late 20’s stood at the back of the room, giving people orders. His name was Jason Jordan, and Roman had heard enough to know he was a good cop. Swallowing, he stepped forward.

“Jason.” The sergeant looked up. Finishing his conversation, Jason nodded toward him.

“Roman, right? Nice to finally meet you in person.” They shook hands, then Jason said calmly, “I wish we had more time for introductions, but right now I’ve got a situation to run.” Roman nodded.

“What’s the plan?”

“We think he’s taken Seth to the new storage room. A couple of the technicians are working to get cameras online, and we’re trying to figure out a listening device.” Jason smiled. “But I’m guessing that’s not why you’re here.”

“I…” Roman cut off, not sure how much he knew. “I have some history with Seth.”

“I’ve heard.” Jason’s face revealed nothing; if he knew the Architect was Authority, Roman couldn’t tell. “What are you thinking?”

“I just need to know you won’t kill him.” He swallowed, the words coming out fast. “I know that’s impossible to ask, but-” Jason put a hand on Roman's shoulder.

“I’m going to try my best.” Letting go, he turned back to the blueprints. “But I can’t make any guarantees.”


	2. Flash Freeze

His feet scraped across the floor, rubber against tile. Seth could barely breathe, barely see; everything was a blur. Finn’s arm was still around his throat, the gun still resting against his temple.

He wanted to shake, do anything to get the blood flowing. But Finn had the look of death in his eyes, and Seth knew that trying something would spell his end.

They stopped in front of a metal door he didn’t recognize. Finn reached out for the handle with his left hand, the hand still wrapped around Seth’s neck, and the Architect grunted. Rolling his eyes, he snapped,

“Then why don’t you open it?” He nodded fearfully. Tentatively reaching out, Seth turned the handle and pulled the door open. Nodding, Finn dragged him inside, kicking the door shut behind them with a slam.

The room was cramped and cold, almost like a morgue. A few filing cabinets sat against one wall; the rest of it was in the basement’s storage. Finn dragged them into a corner and forcefully sat down, Seth following. He could feel air trying to reach his lungs, and after a few seconds, he coughed.

“Finn?”

“What?”

“Can you...please...loosen...your grip?” Seth’s hands went to Finn’s arm as he ground his teeth. The Irishman thought about it, then let go, keeping the gun to his head.

“Would be quite pathetic if your death was an accident.”

Twenty minutes after their initial conversation, Jason waved Roman into the command post. Sitting on the middle table were a box of food and two water bottles. On the surface, they looked perfectly ordinary.

“What’s all this?” Roman asked, gesturing to the food.

“We need ears inside that room as well as eyes.” Jason turned one of the bottles, revealing a tiny microphone on the bottom of the cap. “Hopefully, Seth will pick it up or Finn won’t notice.”

“Hopefully?” Roman glared at him in a rare moment of annoyance. Jason immediately flushed.

“I know this isn’t the most original plan, but it’s what we can do for the time being.” Placing the food and water on a tray, he looked over. “Are you okay with me delivering the food?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Roman didn’t argue because he understood. He understood that Finn could feel threatened by his presence. And even though they hadn’t spoken in months, he also didn’t want to set Seth off. Things needed to be calm.

The only sound in the metal cube was Seth’s breathing. Finn had kept his grip loose, but the gun was still on his temple.

The Architect wanted to say something. He didn’t know why this was happening or what he’d done to cause Finn’s outburst. All of this...because of a question.

But at the same time, he was terrified. Seth didn’t have any weapons on him beside his mouth, and that had screwed him over several times. So he remained silent, waiting for something to happen. Waiting for the cops outside to rescue him.

After what felt like an eternity (really, it had been an hour), there was a sudden knock at the door. Finn and Seth jumped, equally startled. Then the Irishman shook his head.

“Do not try anything.” He pushed Seth into the wall, the butt of the gun hitting his stomach, then scooted toward the door. Nodding in pain, the Architect watched as Finn placed one ear to the metal and growled, “Who’s there?”

“Finn? My name’s Jason.” The Irishman rolled his eyes.

“What do you want?” His gruffness was terrifying, yet Seth found himself smirking. Seems he wasn’t the only cop with a mouth.

“I brought some food for you and Seth. I hope that’s okay.” Finn leaned against the door and thought. His pupils dilated and he shut his eyes, trying to remain in control. His fingers scraped against the metal, searching for a grip on reality.

“Finn, you alright?” Seth’s question was one of legitimate concern. His eyes opened, and he nodded.

“Yeah.” Finn turned back to the door and stood up. “I’m going to open this now. Don’t try anything.” That seemed to be the theme of the day.

The door creaked open, revealing Jason with a tray of food boxes and water bottles. A small, hopeful smile on his face, he passed it over to Finn.

“If there’s anything else you need, we can get it for you.”

“If I need something, I will do it myself.” Finn slammed the door in Jason’s face and returned to the corner with the tray. Seth watched him, looking for a tell. Looking for a reason behind all of it.

“What did they bring?” The words stuck in his throat like peanut butter, but Finn understood. Sitting down on the floor across from him, he replied,

“Let’s see.” The cardboard boxes contained lo mein. Passing one over to the Architect, Finn reached for one of the water bottles.

In the dim light of the storage room, he looked like the rookie cop Seth barely knew. Finn’s features were softer again, kinder. He didn’t look like the man who had nearly choked his hostage and put a gun to his head.

But then, after a few seconds, the coldness returned. Holding one of the bottles in his hand, Finn twitched.

“How’d it go?” Roman asked when Jason returned. The younger cop shook his head.

“I really don’t know.” Before he could elaborate, Roman spotted something. On the camera feed, Finn was tense, holding a bottle in his hand. The bottle with the microphone.

“Jordan.” He pointed to the screen. Jason saw what was about to happen, his eyes widening. Pulling the microphone off, Finn stood up and turned to the camera.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t find this?” His voice was cold and quiet, much like a glass of ice water. “No games, Jason. No games.” Then Finn smashed the microphone between his fingers with a loud crackle.


	3. Reaching Endgame

“They were just trying to be nice.” Those were the first words that came out of Seth’s mouth. He was still on the floor, sitting up against the cold gray wall. Finn was across from him, silently chewing on lo mein. The Architect was out of breath from being held captive so long; he wasn’t firing on all cylinders.

“Were they?” The Irishman’s voice was frosty. “It was an unfair bargain, Seth. Typical of them.”

“How do you figure?”

“Cops always want something; money, power, a favor. Or has the Authority  _ desensitised  _ you to such things?” Seth unconsciously shivered. Finn wasn’t wrong; he had done things his younger self would be terrified of. But he could hear something else in the older man’s voice, something fighting to break through. The gears in the Architect’s head began to turn.

Finn suddenly rose to his feet, nearly kicking over the tray of food. Body coiled like a man possessed, he strode over to one of the filing cabinets and forced it open. Seth watched as he went through the files, searching for something. He pulled a couple out and studied them before clicking his tongue and putting them away. Then the Architect realized what the end game was and prayed someone watching the cameras could be discreet.

Chewing on his sandwich (roast beef and swiss), Roman watched Jason pace. The younger cop was trying to think of a plan, a way to draw Finn out. He looked a combination of concerned and angry, the latter more at himself. Rising from the edge of the table, the former Hound whispered,

“Maybe you should sit for a minute.” Jason shook his head.

“Lives are at stake here, Roman.” Surprisingly, his tone was kind. “I just...I just need to think.” Shaking his head again, Jason continued to fidget. Rolling his eyes, Roman kicked a chair toward him.

“Sit. I will watch the cameras.” Thankfully he obliged.

Finn was still searching the filing cabinet. Roman turned to ask Jason for details, then froze. Seth was in the corner, watching the Irishman nervously. Eyes slowly traveling to the camera, he took a deep breath and began to motion discreetly with his hands.

“Jason.” He started, then saw what Roman saw. Rising from his chair, Jason muttered,

“What’s he doing?” Roman shook his head.

“I don’t know.” But he did know. Turning, Roman left the room to throw out his sandwich, playing Seth’s motions in his head. They hadn’t used ASL in years, but after a moment, the translation came to him.

_ Find the original file. _

The steps down to the basement were dark, but Roman knew them by heart; he had carried 90% of the files during the move. Reaching the bottom, he flicked on the light switch and sighed. He knew exactly what he was looking for.

When Finn had arrived at the station, it had taken a couple of days for everything to settle. Triple H had claimed a “file mishap,” which Roman knew was total BS. He had been meaning to search the files, and now was the perfect opportunity.

Bálor’s record was wedged into one of the drawers. Wincing, Roman yanked it out and began to read. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary: employment history, psych evaluation, past achievements. It was simple, too simple. After a moment, he began to recognize Hunter’s flowery language: the same planted in the Hounds’ files.


	4. Beginning Of The End

After five minutes, Seth had ceased trying to get a message across. Finn was still pilfering the filing cabinet, agitation rising in him. Shaking his head, the Irishman let out an annoyed grunt and slammed the drawer closed.

“Not finding what you’re looking for?” Seth muttered. Finn shook his head. “Want any help?”

“It’s none of your business.” Seth grinned; okay, he deserved that. “Besides, you wouldn’t understand from up there on your high horse.”

“Try me.” Shooting him a stunned look, Finn halted. Tilting back and forth, obviously trying to decide, he shut his eyes. A wince took shape; Seth wanted to ask about it, but before he could, the expression vanished. Light flooding back through his corneas, the Irishman spoke.

“You probably already know this, but officers with…” Finn inhaled, his voice hushed and unsteady, “mental issues aren’t allowed to be in the field. Yet somehow, Hunter got that removed. And I want to know why.”

“He wanted to see you snap.” Seth stared at the wall, the pieces clicking. “He loves murder and rage, and I’m guessing he was growing bored. You were perfect.”

“Yeah…” Finn trailed off until his voice was barely above a squeak. “I guess you’re right.” For a few seconds, there was nothing. Then anger and color returned to the Irishman’s face. “Actually, Seth, you just gave me an idea.”

“What?” Seth jumped as Finn pulled him to his feet. Putting the gun back to his temple, he whispered,

“I wonder how Triple H would react if his prized pupil died in front of him.” Smirking, Finn walked toward the door and kicked it open.

The sound attracted Roman and Jason’s attention. Grabbing their guns, they dashed out of the room and ran back toward the main area. The area where Triple H’s office was.

Finn was charging ahead like a man on a mission, one arm around Seth’s neck. Hunter’s glass box of an office was empty, causing the Irishman to stop.

“Where is he?!” It started out quiet, then got louder. “WHERE IS HE?!”

“Finn!” Jason’s voice. The Irishman turned, shaking like a very pissed off leaf. “If you’re looking for Hunter, he’s not here today.”

“What?”

“He called in sick.” Seth and Roman’s eyes widened; they both knew what that meant. Hunter never called in sick, he just didn’t show. If he did call in, that was code for “handle your own problems, idiots.”

Finn began to shake, tearing between two emotional extremes. Seth could feel his grip loosening, and he could see Roman trying to think. If the older cop spoke, it might screw everything up.

What happened next was a blur of light and color. Before Seth could stop himself, he wiggled himself free from Finn’s grip and tackled him. There was a crack and the Irishman screamed, clutching his arm. Jason ran forward and kicked the gun away.

The future Kingslayer was motionless. Blood pumped in his ears, his fingers shaking. It was the beginning of the end for him. The end of his time with the Authority.

And God, there was going to be lots of paperwork. Among other things. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this little look into Finn's mental state. The next entry will be a deconstruction of Daniel Bryan and how Roman became his mentor.


End file.
